


Interlude

by edibleflowers



Series: Werewolves of Lucis [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Shapeshifting, Werewolves, pre-ffxv
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-06 03:15:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12202788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edibleflowers/pseuds/edibleflowers
Summary: Ignis overthinks things. Gladio helps him out. Direct sequel to "Alpha's Request".





	Interlude

**Author's Note:**

> endless thanks to the discord server for cheerleading and doing sprints and also thanks to Arumattie for looking it over and giving very helpful feedback
> 
> I know the summary is shitty but this whole fic isn't very long guys

Ignis wakes at the wrong time of morning, in a bed he's not used to being in, in a room that it takes him a split-second to recognize (beyond the obvious of "not his own"). The warm body next to him reminds him of what happened the previous evening, and he sits up, rubbing his eyes.

His phone is somewhere in the kitchen of Noctis's apartment, which is why its alarm didn't wake him. More, Ignis slept deeply, content and worn out from the evening's exertions: an unusual circumstance for him, to be sure.

Normally he'd be frantic, angry at himself for losing himself in the moment and not paying attention to his schedule. He has to be somewhere today; so does Noctis. Somehow, though, as he looks down at the tousled head of black hair buried in the pillow beside him, Ignis feels nothing but tenderness and warmth toward his new alpha. A small part of him is even tempted to slide back into bed, to wrap himself in the sheets and in Noctis's arms.

The more sensible part of him points out that their duties wait for no man, no matter if he be a common laborer or the future king of Lucis. Besides, by the angle of the sunlight slanting in through the curtains, it's not that late; Noctis has nothing planned for this early in the morning, since attempting to wake him before dawn rarely succeeds, and Ignis, if he recalls correctly, has only a couple of meetings before he's due to train with Gladio later.

 _Gladio_ , Ignis thinks, and closes his eyes for a moment. With this new development in Ignis's relationship with Noctis, there's no avoiding a talk with Gladio now.

Strangely, Ignis wishes he didn't have to. For the moment, though, he puts aside such thoughts in favor of beginning the long process of awakening the sleeping prince.

* * *

Ignis sees Gladio every day for one reason or another. Both of them spend the majority of their time at the Citadel; even though Gladio doesn't technically live there, he might as well for the amount of hours he needs to be there. Nearly every day, Ignis has a training session with either Gladio or another trainer, working on his various physical skills, improving his acrobatic abilities, honing his aim with daggers and lance. Since both of them work in close proximity to King Regis Lucis Caelum, their paths often cross in the hallways of the royal floors.

In other words, it takes a serious effort to avoid Gladio in the course of his daily activities. 

Ignis doesn't exactly _want_ to avoid Gladio. After the previous night, however, Ignis is feeling slightly at sea in regards to the man who will one day be the sworn Shield of said prince. Their lives are already tangled enough as it is: Gladio, the son of the King's Shield and scion of a line of men and women who have given their lives in service to the crown, has been trained to this duty since childhood. He has an almost brotherly relationship with Noctis. ( _Almost_. As if he's always known he would one day be part of Noctis's pack, Gladio has been careful in his approach to his friendship with Noctis.) Ignis considers Gladio a close friend, too; in addition, Gladio Amicitia also happens to be the only other werewolf Ignis has slept with.

In all honesty, he's not sure how that will influence further relations within the pack. No two packs are alike, it's true; some consist of no more than two people -- the alpha and their omega -- while some have many members and carefully-constructed statuses within that blanket. Two alphas in a pack won't necessarily be a problem; still, there could be some ego-bruising there, and Gladio can occasionally be short-tempered. (Rarely, true, but it does happen.)

There's no getting out of training today, though. Nor is there any chance of avoiding the subject, since, despite a thorough shower at his own apartment within the Citadel, he knows that Gladio's werewolf senses will detect the obvious.

Ignis doesn't even have to say a word. As he enters the training rooms, having just changed into an exercise outfit and athletic shoes, Gladio looks up at him. An eyebrow goes up.

"Huh," he says.

"Go on," Ignis says. "Get it out of your system." He steps inside and lets the door from the locker room close behind him, so that they won't be overheard.

"No, it's just. Unexpected," Gladio says, and stands, setting aside the dumbbell he'd been using.

"You might say that." Ignis can't hide the relieved breath he lets out as he comes over to the workout equipment; Gladio's already changing some settings on the treadmill, and Ignis steps onto it without hesitation.

"What happened?" Gladio asks.

Through the slow warm up, Ignis briefly recounts the events of the previous night: how he'd inadvertently asked Noctis about his plans for his future pack, his subsequent invitation into said pack. He doesn't have to elaborate further; Noctis's scent still clings to him, faintly but enough to be read by a sensitive werewolf nose. He waits for Gladio to fill in the blanks, then looks up at him.

"Come on," is all Gladio says, and, surprised, Ignis stops the machine and follows him, legs momentarily shaky from the abrupt change of pace.

* * *

Most training sessions are largely the same. Ignis has stamina training, and then there's some strength work followed by his acrobatics practice (a routine he's set himself, since Gladio's focus is decidedly different). Sometimes they spar, but more often they're doing their own thing, with Gladio keeping track of time and number of reps. At the end, they always stretch and cool down together. 

Rarely has Gladio taken Ignis running. Ignis is confused until he sees where they're headed: a private garden at the rear of the Citadel, this one kept specifically for the use of wolves. With its high hedges and open spaces, they can romp here when the need to change is too great. There's no fear of being seen or overheard, not with insulating fences providing an extra layer of security, and Ignis himself regularly stocks the changing room to ensure it's supplied with everything they might need.

He isn't really surprised, somehow, when Gladio strips down and shifts into his wolf-form as soon as they're in the changing room. Gladio's amber eyes are bright, honey-hued, against a pelt of midnight-black fur; he gives Ignis a look and then goes for the door, which swings open automatically for him. Reluctant, Ignis removes his clothes a little more slowly, then shifts as well and sets out after Gladio. 

Ignis rarely shifts his form. Though an omega's heat is tied to the phases of the moon, it doesn't rule them in other aspects: werewolves don't have to change unless they want to. Once in a while, the itch will grow strong enough that he can't resist the shift, and that's when he's grateful for this space. But Gladio seems to be in the mood for a different kind of workout today, so Ignis can do little except put on a little burst of speed to keep up with him.

In wolf form, everything is simple. Information comes to him more through scent than sight, though his lolling tongue brings additional flavor and context to the odors he takes in. Gladio, ahead of him, doesn't seem angry, but neither is he at ease. Perhaps he didn't want to think about things for a little while. Ignis is aware now that he'll have another alpha to watch over and care for, even if Gladio isn't officially pack yet; he'll need to pay close attention to Gladio's moods as well as Noctis's.

He loses track of time, chasing after Gladio. They run all over the garden, around the flowerbeds and neatly trimmed hedges sectioning off various areas within the private space, even nearly bowling over a groundskeeper at one point (Ignis gives an apologetic bark as the man, having ducked just in time, straightens himself and glares at them). When he does stop to look up at the sky, attempting to discern the time by the angle of the sun above them, Gladio takes advantage of his distraction and leaps on him. The two go rolling down a shallow incline, catching up on mulch-covered ground at the base of an enormous oak tree.

Ignis wrinkles his nose at the sharp ammoniac smell of the mulch and pushes a panting Gladio off of him. Gladio just rolls to his back and makes a wheezing sound like a laugh, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. Strangely, he doesn't smell tense or upset at all -- though after a run like that, Ignis would hardly expect him to be wound up.

Abruptly, Gladio shifts back, and Ignis rolls to his belly and pushes to sit up. While they're decidedly alone, save the groundskeeper who's probably still grumbling at them, the breeze can't carry every scent, and Gladio's taking quite the chance being out here naked. He gives Ignis a glance, a raised eyebrow, and then tucks his arms behind his head and smiles.

"You should change," he says. "Feels good, and we're alone out here." 

Ignis shakes his head instead. He doesn't care how nice the spring sun feels on bare skin, although it certainly dapples Gladio's tanned skin to gorgeous effect. Instead, Ignis opts to step over Gladio and settle on him. Gladio makes a sound at the unexpected weight of Ignis's wolf form draped over his body, but after a moment he laughs and lets his hands settle in Ignis's rough cream-and-brown coat. 

"You know, this fur coat of yours is pretty, but it's freakin' hot," Gladio comments. His hands continue to move in Ignis's fur, and Ignis rests his head on Gladio's chest, closing his eyes against the sun's brightness. "There you are. Can't remember the last time I saw you relaxed at all. Even when you sleep, you're tense."

Ignis opens an eye and levels his gaze at Gladio, who chuckles. "Yeah, yeah. That's why I brought you out here, y'know. I could smell it rollin' off you the minute you stepped off the elevator. This business with the pack really had you wrought up, I know, but I thought last night would've settled it. You did packbond with him, right?"

Ignis huffs a breath and drops his head again. He doesn't even have to carry on his half of the conversation; Gladio's talking enough for the both of them.

"But you still can't stop thinking about things. That's who you are, Iggy, and that's why you're the perfect person to be Noct's chamberlain when he becomes the king." Gladio's hands are soothing, warm and gentle; Ignis is aware he's being petted like a lapdog and doesn't find it in himself to mind. "One problem got solved, but then you had another. Whether you tell Noct that you'd been with me in the past or not, you and I still have some history. And we may not have known back then that we'd be in a pack with Noct now, but I don't think that would've changed the choices we made anyway.

"What I'm tryin' to say is, you don't have to worry about this. There's no problem to work through here. I'm glad you got Noct to deal with the pack thing, and I know he'll approach me about it, just like you know I'm gonna say yes. I'd be stupid not to. It's what I want for a lot of reasons."

Gladio's fingers find their way under Ignis's chin, and he lifts up to let Gladio scratch there. It feels good, especially when those strong fingers bury themselves in the ruff of his neck to dig deep into the fur. Ignis gets so many _different_ itches when he's in wolf form, itches that he can't satisfactorily scratch even when he changes back.

"So we're OK," Gladio says at last, and lets his head drop back to the grass. His hands ease up in Ignis's fur, and Ignis takes a breath and lets himself shift to human form. He's still draped across Gladio's belly, but the skin-to-skin contact is quite different from before; Ignis sucks in a breath as he props himself up over Gladio.

"Sorry to disrupt your exercise routine," he says.

"What are you talking about?" Gladio gestures to the garden with a grin. "We exercised. And we could exercise some more, if you've got some free time." He gives Ignis a wink, then tucks his hands behind his head again.

Ignis rolls his eyes and shifts again, then leaps over Gladio and starts for the entrance to the Citadel. He knows Gladio can scent his interest perfectly well, but just to be sure, he twists his head to look back at him, giving him a wolfish wink.

He feels inexplicably light now. He can't wait to thank Gladio properly.


End file.
